


The Twilight of Such Day

by Neila_Nuruodo



Series: Burn the Page for Me [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, They actually get to meet in person, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24049936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neila_Nuruodo/pseuds/Neila_Nuruodo
Summary: The grand conclusion of Lahabrea's master plan approaches as the adventurer is maneuvered to face the Ultima Weapon.  There is no question this will strain the growing affection between Thancred and his shadowy puppetmaster.  But in the end, Lahabrea is cast out.And Thancred finds himself suddenly alone.
Relationships: Lahabrea/Thancred Waters
Series: Burn the Page for Me [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630303
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	The Twilight of Such Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chaospearl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaospearl/gifts).



Thancred was not usually disturbed by heights. In fact, he often found them ideally suited for observing or following others without being spotted, or simply serving as a location where he could be relatively safe and undisturbed.

This was a different matter entirely, though. Perched upon the narrow lip of a Garlean warmachine, hundreds of yalms above the ground, the only thing keeping his heart from beating its way out of his chest was the knowledge that Lahabrea could teleport them to safety long before they struck the ground if they were to fall - well, that and the fact that he had no say in his body's reactions at the moment. For his part, Lahabrea experienced no such apprehension, gazing down with satisfaction upon the culmination of his handiwork. The wind tugging at their elaborate robes did not seem to concern him in the least. Thancred tried to adopt his unconcern.

From this height the players assembled below seemed as toy figurines or game pieces; Ixal moved about in the eye of the storm, arranging captive Amal'jaa and Kobolds according to the suggestions Lahabrea had given them earlier. Even Garuda herself seemed little more than an odd winged figure, and Thancred recalled the scorn Lahabrea had hidden when speaking with the Ixal on the subject of their goddess, wondering what it was about this particular primal that awoke his contempt.

Lahabrea raised his head to scan the horizon once more. This time their gaze snagged on an approaching airship - Lahabrea's pleasure and anticipation at recognizing the vessel the adventurer had managed to secure clashed with Thancred's own apprehension. A part of him had hoped the adventurer would be unable to enter the violent vortex Garuda created, for their sake; playing into the Ascian's plans, and unawares at that, would not likely end well for them. But at the same time it was good to see that they had not given up and turned to other endeavors, that they still sought to oppose the primals whose mere existence drained the land. For good or ill, the airship cut through the gales as though Hydaelyn Herself guided its path, and scarcely did it alight but Garuda rose into the air to dive upon the intruders into her domain.

Both he and Lahabrea watched the battle with fascination, and though their interests sprang from different sources they found themselves agreed in their admiration of the adventurer's skill in battle. Thancred realized he had seen Garuda's might and thought the adventurer would do better to stay away, but plainly that was not the case; after a fierce contest, the winged primal fell.

She did not, however, dissipate as he expected upon her defeat; prayer-borne aether streamed from her devotees to empower her once more. The crystal bearer did  _ something _ that caused a strange light and a simultaneous burst of satisfaction from Lahabrea. Before the fighting could begin again, though, Gaius made his entrance; his words spurred the primal to turn her wrath upon the captives. They watched, Lahabrea in grim satisfaction and Thancred in sorrowful horror, as their dying cries summoned forth Titan and Ifrit. Thancred breathed an internal sigh of relief as the adventurer fled back to the airship, along with their friends.

But before the newly arrived primals could turn on one another or, Twelve forbid, the escaping adventurer, a harsh grating groan rang out; the platform beneath his feet rocked and bounced upward as the great machine suspended from it and the others flying in formation dropped free to land on the ground. Thancred, fighting back panic, clutched at Lahabrea as they rode the motion out, then as they peered down to see the Ultima Weapon, almost directly below them. As Lahabrea had promised Gaius earlier, the ancient weapon made short work of the primals, absorbing their power.

Even Thancred could not help being impressed by the show. Lahabrea grinned, clearly pleased with his handiwork. “With each primal it consumes, it grows more powerful. A marvel, is it not?” 

Though the words did not seem directed at him, Thancred had to suppose that it was, indeed. Now fully powered, the Ultima Weapon rose into the air, Gaius held upon one hand, and made for Castrum Centri. Once it was little more than a dim speck upon the horizon, Lahabrea opened a rift to send them ahead and await its arrival.

* * *

Thancred had long since tuned out Gaius’s spiel. The man had strong convictions, that much he could grant him, but paired with his fondness for the sound of his own voice he found himself quickly losing interest. To his amusement, Lahabrea seemed to share his disinterest, though the Ascian had to pay at least passing attention to the man’s words so as to be polite. He was, after all, the Imperial’s guest, here to oversee the culmination of… whatever he intended the Ultima Weapon to do.

Without warning Lahabrea’s attention sharped so blatantly that even Thancred, in his distracted funk, noticed. Tuning in - and Lahabrea absently opened up, letting him  _ feel _ \- he sensed a swelling of  _ something. _ It stung, even at this distance, a faint and distant burn.

_ Light, _ Lahabrea explained.  _ Your crystal bearer is near. _

Thancred mulled this, split between relief that rescue was apparently at hand and concern over what could go wrong.  _ Well? _ he said at last. Lahabrea responded in silent confusion.  _ Are you not going to inform the Imperials? _ he clarified.

_ Nay, _ came the surprising response.  _ It is hardly my lookout if he cannot secure his own fortress. Especially, _ he groused,  _ after so neatly destroying my own plans. _

Thancred couldn’t help his smile; Lahabrea really  _ had _ been incensed by that. Well, it suited him fine; he certainly didn’t want to see their adventurer friend captured as well by the Imperials. He doubted they would much appreciate Gaius and Livia’s tender mercies.

_ In truth, it is best that the Imperials suffer a minor setback, or at least a distraction. The Heart of Sabik must be fully charged, and I have not finished the preparations. This can only be a rescue attempt; even if they knew of the Ultima Weapon’s location, they could not have sneaked forces enough to destroy it in without clearly announcing their presence. Therefore, let them do as they wish; the subsequent flurry of security improvements - aimed, as they will be, outward - will but make it all the easier for me to access my goal unimpeded. _

Thancred relaxed; his words made sense, as well as aligning with what he had observed so far. Still, there was something else there - he was sure of it. He certainly  _ thought _ he had grown skilled at reading Lahabrea, or at least discerning when he was hiding something. His words were honest, but his emotional state was hidden. He puzzled over it until the alarm was finally sounded; the adventurer had been detected.

Gaius turned to them at the conclusion of a rather heated conversation. “They have gained the air, but the Ultima Weapon should serve nicely to ground them again.”

“It is not yet ready to fly once more. The core needs to be tested for stability.”

“Then shoot them down!”

Lahabrea smiled. “You wish me to do the honors? Very well.” He paused, a sudden air of mischief blossoming. “Bear in mind the weapon may require some calibration.”

Gaius made an irritated gesture and returned to his ramblings, though he didn’t get far before an airship - the same one they had seen at Garuda’s defeat - hove into view. Thancred corralled his worry, trusting that Lahabrea wouldn't let them get this far only to change his plan. Instead he watched him closely; he had a suspicion… Sure enough, the bolt of bilious green energy missed the airship, and Thancred was  _ sure _ it had been intentional. The ship veered and changed course as the steersman registered the threat. Smiling, Lahabrea reached up to his hood.

_ What are you doing? _

Lahabrea seemed surprised by his alarmed outrage.  _ By now your Antecedent has surely told them of your disposition. Even so, it is best that they see it with their own eyes. _

Thancred bit down on his response, feeling as though a pit had opened in his stomach. He didn’t  _ want _ Lahabrea to show his face. Even though he knew - he  _ knew _ \- Minfilia had to have told them, or would do so after their escape… He sighed. It didn’t matter, anyway. Lahabrea had not heeded his displeasure; already his face was bare for all to see. As Lahabrea once more drew on power to control the Ultima Weapon, his glyph appeared again. There would be no doubt in the Scions’ minds that Thancred had been possessed by an Ascian.

_ Take heart, _ Lahabrea murmured.  _ Your Minfilia is young, but by all reports her heart is wise. She will see what I have done, and she will realize it was by design. _

Thancred strained to see the tiny figures, watching for a gesture of understanding; they were too far away for him to be certain of anything. Another blast from the Ultima Weapon impacted impressively against the nearby cliffs, and the airship slipped away. Lahabrea’s satisfaction rose, but he forced a scowl onto his face. “More testing will be necessary before the Weapon is put into use, it seems.”

Gaius began another tirade, but Thancred had already tuned him out, deep in thought over the events of the day. At least Minfilia and the others were safe. So long as that was the case, there was yet hope.

* * *

Livid as he was at Lahabrea in this moment, a small part of Thancred could not help but admire the beautiful simplicity of his plan. In point of fact, the adventurer hadn’t been  _ forced _ to confront the Ultima Weapon; they and their companions had chosen to assault the Imperial facility, the point of the spear piercing its defenses. But the alternative was not one Thancred expected they would have been able to accept - to see the Eorzean city-states bend the knee to the Empire, to let them rule by virtue of the Ultima Weapon’s might, to see it strengthened each time desperate beast tribes summoned forth their gods for protection against their oppressors.

No, the choice was no true choice at all. But the practical end of this was that they  _ had _ to confront the Ultima weapon before it grew yet stronger. Forced into action as they were, dancing to Lahabrea’s tune as they must, there was every chance that they would fall, leaving the realm without a champion able to withstand the influence of the primals. Even were the city-states to continue struggling against the Empire, the beast tribes would eat away at their foundations until they succumbed, either falling from an inability to fight or surrendering from desperate need of protection from the primals.

Only one primal-destroying weapon would emerge from this conflict.

Though, as the battle raged on, hope sparked in Thancred’s breast.  _ Something _ seemed to fuel the crystal bearer - they must have grown in might, for even at Garuda’s defeat they hadn’t been this strong. As the Allagan weapon began to falter, Thancred braced for Lahabrea’s fury, but the Ascian continued to watch in dark glee; it seemed his plans had not yet gone awry. It was not long until Thancred realized why.

“It is the blessing of Light that confounds you.”

His horror compounded as Lahabrea manipulated the Ultima Weapon, drawing out the spell hidden in its heart and loosing it. Thancred couldn’t help himself; he struggled, trying to stop Lahabrea, to distract him, anything. He cursed as he was caught and enveloped - not put to sleep, for a mercy, but rendered incapable of action. Energy enveloped them, whirling outward, a conflagration of power vaporizing everything in its radius save the Ultima Weapon, Lahabrea himself, and - Thancred gasped, relief chilling him. A shield of scintillating light sprung into existence around the adventurer, and hope glimmered again in his heart. Slowly the spell faded, leaving fiery destruction for malms around save for that small circle of protected ground.

“Oh, Hydaelyn...it seems the task of keeping Your champion alive has exhausted what strength You had left.”

Thancred reeled within Lahabrea’s hold. So that had been the plan? Either destroy the adventurer or force the star’s very Will to… what? To use the last of Her strength? How could it be that Hydaelyn might be so weakened? But Lahabrea’s glee was undeniable.

“Van Baelsar... Your enemy's shield is broken. The rest I leave to you.”

As Lahabrea withdrew to leave them to their fight, Thancred turned once more to him in fury. Afraid to struggle for fear he would be forced into sleep, he instead sought words.

_ How could you do this? _ The destruction was nothing shy of horrifying; looking around at it he felt himself reeling once more.  _ Do you intend to wound the very star? _

He recoiled as Lahabrea laughed.  _ Your beloved Hydaelyn, you mean? _ Disgust welled up.  _ You have no idea what manner of creature you serve. Someday you will thank me for this. _

Thancred doubted it, but it was clear Lahabrea was not concerned with what he thought of the matter. They continued to watch, and to both of their surprise, Lahabrea’s displeasure, and Thancred’s amazement and joy, the adventurer again cast down the Ultima Weapon. Lahabrea’s disgust peaked as Gaius was thrown from the machine during its destruction. The Ascian gave vent to his frustration before turning to the crystal bearer and preparing for battle.

As the adventurer launched the first attack, Thancred winced. Apparently Lahabrea had no power to spare on his usual shields, for he was doused abruptly in a deluge of Lahabrea’s emotions; the sting of the attack also came through, faint but recognizable. It cut the knees from under his half-formed thought of distracting Lahabrea; even  _ if _ such a thing were to succeed, it would mean more pain - perhaps even the risk of death - for himself. In fact, it quickly seemed as though his interference would be completely unnecessary; Lahabrea soon struggled to keep up with the light-fueled adventurer. Even so, he taunted them, crowing that they would have to end Thancred to strike him down.

Back and forth the battle raged, Lahabrea furiously channeling darkness through Thancred’s body - fighting the flesh, it seemed, all the way - and the adventurer retaliating, refusing to falter, to fall. With no barrier between them, Thancred could catch partial thoughts from Lahabrea, seeing what he intended to do a moment before he did it. He also felt something else - like great twisted vines of darkness, twining around his soul and trapping him, holding him snared. They caged him, forcing him along their path. Forcing him to fight.

As they struggled, Lahabrea grew more determined, more grim, reaching deeper and deeper for the power to continue. He seemed drawn thin, worn out, but he did not let it slow him, and any time he flagged the thorns were there to prick him. Thancred found himself torn; almost he wanted to help Lahabrea somehow, or perhaps find a way to disentangle him from the thicket binding him. Surely that couldn’t be good. He reached out, wondering what he might be able to do...

A cry tore from Thancred’s soul as he felt himself drawn out, pulled almost like taffy - some portion of his self nearly yanked away. He quivered, not understanding, fearing. Why would Lahabrea do this? He had thought the Ascian kinder than this, at least of late… Lahabrea gritted his teeth, and Thancred gasped as the stretched portion seeped back into him, slowly, as though forced through a small aperture or at great effort. And Lahabrea’s trembling strain did imply effort. Thancred felt himself swaddled securely in power, twin protection and restraint binding him.

_ What is this?  _ Why, _ Lahabrea? _

_ I cannot protect you any other way. The alternative is to spend your soul to defend myself. _

Thancred recoiled in instinctive horror. Was  _ that _ what had almost occurred? He continued to watch helplessly, feeling sick. Lahabrea demonstrated none of his inward desperation, and he realized that if nothing changed, Lahabrea would likely fall. Indeed, Thancred could feel his utter disbelief at finding himself so sorely pressed. He caught the edge of a thought, the idea that Thancred would be safe should he withdraw, and again the dark thorny vines seemed to constrict, barbs digging in. With a hiss, Lahabrea turned back.

But even spurred as he was, straining for every iota of energy, it still wasn’t enough. Thancred felt as though his heart was leaden in his chest; the power cocooning him, protecting him, would no doubt be a boon to Lahabrea at this point, yet he left it in place, even as he faltered.

Even as he fell.

Defeated, Lahabrea slumped toward the ground, pain and bone-deep weariness radiating through even to Thancred. What now, he couldn’t help but wonder. Surely the adventurer wouldn’t strike them dead - especially as it would do little more than inconvenience Lahabrea. But light radiated from them, seizing them and drawing them  _ somewhere. _ Lahabrea winced, cringing smaller as brilliance engulfed them from all directions. Thancred felt him recognize this place, felt grim determination rise in the face of fear. Some decision flitted over his mind, and he reached once more to Thancred’s soul, binding him even tighter.

_ I am sorry. This will not be pleasant. Best you are not conscious for it. _

_ Wait - stop!  _ But Lahabrea did not heed him; suffocating darkness enveloped him, and he knew no more.

* * *

When Thancred awoke, he was alone in his head. It was odd, unusual, to move his own limbs, his face. Of course smiling felt unnatural.

Of course he felt empty. It was only to be expected. But the others needed him, so he rallied his strength, painted a mask of relief and amiability over his blank despair and pressed forward.

* * *

After two weeks, he thought he might have begun to feel better. It worried him, or at least it ought have, that he did not. But when he wondered how long he would have to pretend he was all right until he finally was in truth, he could feel nothing but exhaustion at the notion.

As he trundled to his quarters - with none about to watch, he did not have the energy to maintain his charade - a strange sensation arrested him.

_ Lahabrea… _

Standing with his fingertips resting frozen on the door handle, he shook his head. It was impossible. Lahabrea was gone; he had questioned the warrior of light closely about those final minutes, after he had been made to sleep. They had been happy to reassure him that they had destroyed the dark crystal, freeing him from Lahabrea's possession, before striking the Ascian down with the power of their light and the combined prayers of those that had come to support them and Operation Archon.

It had been the most difficult role of Thancred's life, pretending to be the version of himself that would be relieved by Lahabrea's demise, pretending to be glad that the Ascian was gone. Whatever he thought he was sensing now was nothing more than foolish hope or delusion. Dark grief and despair rose as his fingers clenched. What a cruel joke.

Resolving to rip the bandage free, he yanked the door open and stomped into the room. Empty, as he'd known it would be… wait. A silhouette, in the far corner, barely more than a shadow… He felt himself pulled across the room, yanked by some external force his suddenly leaden feet could barely keep up with, until he stood before the apparition.

The Ascian - for so the robes proclaimed it to be - stood an ilm or two shorter than Thancred, a bowed head making the slight difference seem larger. His mind desperately scrambled to find an explanation that wouldn't destroy him - a messenger, come to bear some final words of Lahabrea's to him, or perhaps bequeath a gift, a memento; another Ascian coming to claim his form, now, while he was still weakened but no longer under any suspicion of possession… All his assumptions were dashed as the head tilted up to show the familiar fanged mask.

For a moment they stared at one another. Lahabrea broke the silence.

"I apologise for intruding once more into your life. I can only excuse it by pointing out that our organizations will inevitably wind up once more at odds, and it would destroy me if your shock and horror at my survival were to lead to your demise. Better, I decided, that you find out now." He let free a gusty sigh. "You need not fret that - mmph!"

Thancred pinned him to the wall upon which he leaned, silencing what sounded to his hope-wracked, terrified mind like the start of a goodbye with a desperate kiss. He groaned into Lahabrea's sound of surprise, licking in hungrily to taste him, heedless of how his nose pressed against the mask. After a moment the tension drained from the Ascian's form. Thancred brought his hands up, still ruling his mouth, to seize upon his waist; tugging, he hauled Lahabrea's hips tight against his own. Once his hands were locked on securely - as though  _ this _ would prevent the sorcerer from escaping, ridiculous - he tore himself off Lahabrea’s mouth, reeling back to look at him.

Color crept down the Ascian’s cheeks, just visible below the mask; parted lips gleamed an “o” of surprise up at him. Thancred found himself staring at the lips, trying to remember - were they the ones he had seen so briefly but so memorably? Whose body was Lahabrea wearing now? The urge to rip the mask off, to see what lay beneath, rose to seize him. His hands trembled where they clenched the arched bones of Lahabrea’s hips.

“Are you wearing someone?”

Lahabrea swallowed hard, throat bobbing. Thancred realized his words had come out in a rather dire tone. He made an effort to dial back on his aggression.

“I am not. The form before you is naught more than aether woven into a facsimile of a mortal form.”

The vise upon his chest eased, letting Thancred draw a full breath. “Good. That’s… good.”

An uncertain smile, faltering, spread over Lahabrea’s lips. “I did not think you would appreciate such a thing, so I resolved not to do so unless necessary.”

“You were right,” Thancred said, and the realization that Lahabrea had anticipated and acceded to his preferences fluttered hopeful in his breast.

“In truth… I was not sure you would be able to see me like this. I am not sure precisely what it means that you can. It may be that… well. It hardly matters, I suppose.”

“You talk too much,” Thancred growled, and suppressed a smile when Lahabrea’s jaw fell slack, color again washing down his cheeks. “Might I suggest a better use for that mouth?”

Thancred leaned in, more deliberately this time, to recapture his lips. The realization that he did not  _ want _ Lahabrea to use another vessel was a striking one to him - more from the burning  _ jealousy _ it engendered in his heart than the wrongness of the act. He would have time enough to worry about that when he was alone again, though. For now, he turned his full attention to exploring the mouth beneath his. Lahabrea groaned, surrendering beneath his assault, and satisfaction wound about him as he took all he wanted. His tongue slid demanding over Lahabrea’s own, subduing it, then swiped along the smooth inner face of his teeth. Reluctantly he pulled back, breaking the kiss to allow them to gasp for air.

For a moment he panted, trying to read Lahabrea. It was damnably difficult with the mask obscuring so much. “I want to see you,” he demanded, and Lahabrea went still.

“Thancred… I do not intend to remain. Surely I have done you enough harm. You know now that I yet live, and that I do not seek your ruin.”

Pain stung Thancred’s eyes; he gritted his teeth against the swelling emotion. “I did think you were dead, yes. It has been killing me this entire time. That you died because of me, because you had to  _ protect _ me.” A pained laugh, nearly a sob, burst free. “The warrior of light certainly thought you dead. And I felt what you did during that last fight.”

“I am sorry for that,” Lahabrea said softly. “I could not spare the strength to-”

“I don’t care about that!” Lahabrea recoiled at his outburst. Thancred drew in a shaky breath, held it for a few seconds. “I’m not upset about  _ that.  _ I’m upset because you’re about to leave, okay?”

Lahabrea continued to stare, apparently speechless.

“I've been a fraud since you were driven out. The others think they have me back. But it's just been an act; when I thought you were dead I may as well have been myself. After all, who would understand if I tried to explain it? They'd just say I was distraught from the trauma. They'd never understand.” He laughed, bitter this time. “I’m not sure I understand myself. But I can’t… I can’t bear that you might leave now. I  _ miss _ you, Lahabrea.” Realizing he was probably hurting the Ascian, Thancred forced himself to unclamp his hands, pressing them instead into the wall on either side of him.

For a moment Lahabrea did not move. The nameless fears and horrors rose once more in his breast, the whispers -  _ now you have found the one you love, and you will never have him _ \- tried to surge to the fore of his mind. He shook his head, furious, bitter, and stepped back. It was futile; he couldn’t  _ make _ the Ascian stay, and he wouldn’t want to if he could. Well, he was no stranger to the emptiness at this point. What was a few more decades of this?

“Thancred.”

He turned to see Lahabrea - not the mask, this time, but a bared face and a lowered hood. Amazement drew him to a standstill; his heart lurched as hope blossomed once more. For a moment he just drank in the sight - the strong jaw and sculpted cheekbones, the long blond hair feathering down to the shoulders, the way the bright gold eyes shone in the dim room.

“I do not truly wish to leave. If you would have me stay…”

Jolted from his reverie, he closed the distance between them in a few long steps. “I want nothing more,” he whispered, and kissed him again. It was nicer like this, he thought dimly as he buried his fingers in the Ascian’s silken strands. No mask in the way, no hood to stymie his grasp. Now to get the rest of the robes off him… He could not help himself; as he deepened the kiss his hands also slid over Lahabrea’s form, restive, seeking. He grappled blindly with the stifling layers of the robes, finally giving up with an irritated sound.

As he drew back, he looked Lahabrea over with a critical air. The Ascian’s hair was tousled now, eyes dark and lips pink and swollen. His face was flushed, and with the mask out of the way he could see the extent of the smears of color, how they draped from the high cheekbones.

“So what is this body, then? If it is not a stolen one. You said you formed it?”

Lahabrea gave a nod, lucidity returning to his gaze as the heat faded from his face. “That is correct.” A momentary hesitation sharpened Thancred’s interest. “It is a replica of my true form, the shape I was given at birth.”

Thancred took a deep breath, bringing his hands up to run the pads of his fingers over Lahabrea’s face, curiosity swelling at this new tidbit of information. For a moment he just explored its contours, the hollows of the cheeks, the fine, almost upturned nose. Lahabrea’s breath caught as he caressed those full lips, his thumbs lingering over them.

“I like it.” He bent and sucked the lower lip into his mouth, worrying it gently between his teeth. When he released Lahabrea, he was grinning darkly. “I’d like to see more of it.”

Lahabrea chuckled, one hand rising to slide up Thancred’s chest. “I suppose… I would enjoy accommodating you.” He stepped past, heading toward the room’s bed.

_ “Thank _ you. Those robes of yours are utterly impossible.”

Lahabrea paused to glance back at him, bemusement on his face. “They are not so bad. I rather like how they look.”

“I had to struggle my way out of them after I escaped the Praetorium. In public, no less. I beg to differ.”

Lahabrea must have released some hidden catch, for they already lay open, showing lean, toned muscle beneath skintight cloth. Thancred moved to join him on the bed, drawing his shirt over his head and tossing it heedlessly aside. As he loosed the drawstring of his pants he paused for a moment just to stare. Lahabrea already had his high-necked undershirt off, leaving nothing but deliciously tight pants showing a distinct bulge upon his frame.

“You’ll have to teach me how you get that off so fast.”

Lahabrea’s lips twitched, amused. “Do you intend on fucking many Ascians, then?”

“Just the one.” Letting his pants fall and stepping out of them, he hopped up to straddle the Ascian where he lay. Lahabrea was silent, looking up at him as though he were a puzzle he couldn’t quite decipher. “I am referring to you,” he said, annoyance warring with amusement in his voice. He leaned close to capture the speechless lips, and soon he drew murmurs of pleasure and encouragement from them. The heady sounds made his heart race, his head spin; soon he was groaning and rutting against Lahabrea, half-senseless.

Finally he had to pull back; not only was his head spinning from lack of air in addition to desire, but he  _ needed _ to get those damn pants out of his way. Lahabrea’s fingers remained caught in his hair as he moved down, lingering and needy. He hooked the band and drew them down, breath catching at the sight of Lahabrea springing free. With a shake he returned himself to his task; as nice as the sight was, there was better to come - but only once the pants were gone.

He let the fine fabric drop unceremoniously to the ground with a soft shushing thump and crawled back onto the bed. Settling his weight back onto Lahabrea’s hips, he leaned down for another kiss. He thrust his tongue into that hot, hungry mouth; between the kiss and the slow roll of his hips grinding his cock down onto Lahabrea’s, they were both soon gasping and groaning with need. He brought one hand up, cradling the Ascian’s face as he gentled the kiss, caressing and plucking gently now at his lips. The friction on his groin was maddening; he needed to get some lube, and fast. Damnation… he needed to make sure Lahabrea actually wanted this and wasn’t just surrendering out of some misplaced guilt or the like.

He pulled back with a sigh, letting his fingertips linger on the Ascian’s cheek, stroking softly. “Lahabrea, is this - do you want this? Do you want  _ me?” _

The pale golden skin of his face was still washed with heat, brushed over the high cheekbones and trailed down. No reticence echoed in his motions, though, as he raised his hands to gently frame Thancred’s face. “I do. And my soul marvels at the possibility that you might desire  _ me.” _

The words, delivered in a genuine, reverent tone, set Thancred’s blood to fire; he groaned, eyes falling shut for a moment as he savored the touch of soft hands on his face, the  _ feel _ of Lahabrea’s welcome. The need quickening his blood soon pushed him into motion, though; he shifted, one knee sliding to the side to support him as he leaned to the bedside cabinet for a vial of lubricating oil before settling back. With the ease of practice, he spilled some onto his palm, setting the swiftly recorked vial out of the way and spreading and warming it between his hands.

With naught more than a cheeky grin as warning, he reached down to grip Lahabrea’s already-stiff cock in one hand, giving it a squeeze. Lahabrea’s head tilted back in surprise, in pleasure, gold spilling across Thancred’s pillow. His mind snapshotted the sight, saving it deep in his heart, a memory he could treasure later. Now, though; now he wanted to make the Ascian fall apart for him. Slowly, torturously, he began to move his wrist, smiling as Lahabrea hissed and thrust counter to his movements, demanding  _ more.  _ His other hand closed about his own length, and he stroked them both in tandem. The smooth glide, the pressure, combined with the feel of  _ Lahabrea _ in his other hand, though, risked driving him to ecstasy too fast; with a muttered curse he released himself, sending his hand instead to part and probe Lahabrea’s rear, finding his entrance and pressing in.

He was merciless, maintaining the onslaught of pleasure even as he worked his finger deeper inside Lahabrea. The sounds the Ascian made were divine, strangled gasps and groans slowly losing the battle for control, no longer demure but increasingly lewd. Increasingly needy. It made his head swim. He withdrew the finger, smoothing his palm up the crevasse of his buttocks, wiping a bit more of the lubricant oil off. He bent for one more hot, hard kiss before releasing his grip on Lahabrea’s cock.

The Ascian gave a nearly sob-like cry as he released him, but he didn’t stop, one hand on each of his thighs repositioning him, spreading him. “Still want this?” he panted, one hand cradling his stiff length as he moved into position.

“Must you continually ask? Is this needless delay more punishment, then?”

Thancred raised his eyes to meet Lahabrea’s gold. “Only if you want it to be.” The gold darkened.

“Then  _ enough _ with the waiting.” His hands reached down, clutching upon Thancred, pulling him closer. He needed no further urging. Hissing as warmth engulfed his tip, he fought the need to surge forward, to force his way into the enveloping heat. He began to move, back and forth, reaching his hand back up to find Lahabrea’s cock weeping; for a moment he just held him, feeling the  _ need _ in each echoed beat of his heart. He felt heat wash up and down his body as Lahabrea contracted about him with a soft cry.

“Oh - Lahabrea,” he groaned, his head falling forward as he seated fully in. “By the Twelve, you feel…”

The chuckle that came in return was rougher, no longer the smooth tones Thancred was accustomed to. “I want nothing to do with your Twelve, please.”

Thancred gave him a teasing grin as he began to move his hips, keeping the glide slow, shallow. “Do you expect me to swear by  _ your _ god, then?”

Lahabrea’s breath caught, and he tightened around Thancred, wringing a return gasp from him; in his hand Lahabrea’s cock throbbed. He fell forward, suddenly  _ starving _ for the taste of him; his lips slammed down onto Lahabrea’s with force, and his hips began moving faster as need overtook him. He pulled back, gasping, to devour the sight of Lahabrea so thoroughly incoherent beneath him.

“You  _ would _ like that, wouldn’t you? To hear me call on Zodiark’s name as I take you?” He hissed as again Lahabrea clenched about him, so  _ tight, _ and gave an incoherent, broken cry. He began to move his hand, as well, running a thumb over the head to gather up the precum leaking from him as again the hardened length in his hand twitched. Lahabrea’s head lolled helplessly, the bright eyes rolled back and full lips parted. Thancred leaned over him, hand and hips pistoning in a desperate rhythm. All thoughts of drawing things out had been banished by Lahabrea’s need; now his hips smacked firmly into Lahabrea’s arse with each thrust. Memory sparked, sucked him into the past.

“Lahabrea,” he gasped, “I want to - feel your soul again.”

A mewl of surprise, of core-shaken disbelief, pealed from the Ascian’s throat. “Thancred - you…”

“Please,” he intoned, urgency filling the syllable. Blessedly, Lahabrea hesitated no further, and Thancred sighed as the familiar curl of warmth, of  _ self _ wound about him, holding him once more. For a moment he stopped, still, shuddering with pleasure, with  _ relief. _ Here was what he needed. Instead of speaking, he pressed his gratitude directly into Lahabrea’s self, soul to soul.

The Ascian’s reaction was all he could have hoped for. A strangled sob, pleasure commingled with need, with ecstasy, with joy and relief, burst free, and Thancred began once again to move. Of course, he realized dimly, he was at the edge now, what with the long-sought touch upon all parts of his self. It was too late to worry about it; there was no stopping the rhythm he had found; his hand constricted to nearly painful tightness about Lahabrea as he rode him, nigh frenzied.

Vaguely, he hoped the Ascian was close too. He would hate to damage his reputation for being a  _ thorough _ lover. Panting, he leaned closer, need twisting his voice tight.

_ “Zodiark, _ Lahabrea - I’m… aahh...” His words strangled to a whine as Lahabrea threw his head back with a shout, as warmth washed over his fingers in waves, as senseless oblivion stole his sight, stole all awareness, bursting in white glory over him until he slumped helplessly. Consciousness crept back in panted breaths, in racing heartbeats, slowly drawing back the curtain until he once again could see. Lahabrea’s eyes were covered by the back of one arm, lips parted as he panted; he could feel each heaving breath lifting him. With a deep groan he pulled free, twisting to fall beside him; one arm clung to the Ascian’s side, as though Lahabrea would disappear the second he released him.

Who knew; he well might.

He curled close, reveling in the lingering caress of the Ascian’s soul about his own. Twelve, he had  _ needed _ this, had missed it so in the empty weeks. He sighed, content in this moment. His lips pressed naturally into the hollow of the muscle just below Lahabrea’s shoulder, and the tang of sweat-salt lured him into a kiss, and then another. Slowly he made his way up, following corded, lithe muscle, until he had to raise himself up to press his face into Lahabrea’s neck. It was worth it, though, to feel Lahabrea murmur and sigh, settling into the mattress, the vocalization buzzing gently beneath his lips. Pleased, he wrapped himself against Lahabrea’s side, one arm and one leg pinning the Ascian gently in place with his weight. Letting his forehead come to rest against Lahabrea’s temple, nosing into the long locks of hair, he finally let himself relax.

Slowly the action of the room’s air upon their sweat brought forth chills; Thancred kicked the blanket up, pulling it over them. Lahabrea sighed once more; instantly Thancred’s nape prickled. No doubt about it, the quality of this sigh had been something closer to disappointment than contentment.

“I should-”

“Stay,” Thancred interrupted, almost pleading, afraid to make it a demand. “You should stay.”

Lahabrea’s head turned toward him; at this proximity he could not focus properly, but he could still glean apprehension in the slant of his lips.

“I’ve missed your soul against mine.”

Beneath his arm, Lahabrea’s chest rose in a deep breath. The next sigh was at least resigned, if not fully content once more, and tension bled from Thancred’s form. “If you wish it,” he murmured, the warm voice husky, “then I shall remain.”

“Thank you,” Thancred whispered, settling close once more - nestling both his body and soul against Lahabrea. After a moment Lahabrea reached back, his arm settling on Thancred’s waist and sliding to hold him closer. A foolish smile canted his lips as weariness stole over him. Despite his protestations and hesitance, he could  _ feel _ Lahabrea’s pleasure at the closeness. Finally satisfied, he let sleep take him under.


End file.
